Rick's New Girlfriend
by shadowmaat
Summary: Rick has finally found a lady he can charm. There's just one small problem... (Inspired by Stephen Blakley's awesome portrayal or Rick in the Geekenders musical.)


Rick left the cafeteria, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. He needed some fresh air. Or at least some differently-recycled air than the stuff in the lab. Ugh. How was it that Craig was mooning over some girl and Kevin, of all people, had to practically beat them off with a stick- a space stick- and yet he, the consummate Ladies Man, was still alone?

There was always Miss Caroline. A prettier lady had never graced the halls of Aperture, but as skillful as he was when it came to women, she was skillfuller- more skillful?- _better_ at avoiding his attempts. Not that he was going to let it stop him from trying, of course, because you just never know. But the thing was, Caroline wasn't the only one who kept shutting him down. It defied the laws of Nature. He was handsome. He was smart. He was full of charm. So why couldn't he get a date? Dr. Craig McFour-eyes could probably give him some stupid factoid about it, but that wouldn't really solve the problem, would it?

"I'm likable, dammit!"

The man passing by him skidded along the wall in his haste to add distance. Rick scowled. He was likable. Dashing and brave and… and, OK, maybe not so swift with the word stuff, but at least he didn't say "space" all the time or blurt out weird crap about the moon that nobody wanted to know. Well, almost nobody.

He turned a corner, still brooding. It took him a minute to realize there was something on the wall at about knee height. He slowed to take a closer look. Bright smears of color looped along the pristine white panels. Here was a yellow blob that might be a sun, there was a… thing with far too many legs and more teeth than head. It might have been grinning. There were abstract shapes, too, and the occasional small handprint. Drips and smudges marred the floor as well.

He followed the trail down the hall until he found a girl- she couldn't have been more than five- smearing red paint on the wall. Her dark hair was in pigtails and the too-big Aperture shirt she was wearing might have been white once, but now it looked as if a rainbow had sneezed on her. She had a towel spread out beside her, loaded down with little bowls of paint. As he watched, she bent down to stick her hand back in the red and then glanced up and saw him. She jumped back to her feet and thrust her hands behind her, splattering the floor with evidence. The tips of her mostly-pink shoes suddenly became of extreme interest to her.

Rick knew a cue when he saw one. "Why, hello there, little lady!" He swaggered over to crouch beside her. "Do I have the honor of addressing the artist of this fine mural?" He waved at the wall.

The girl rocked on her heels, still staring down.

"Well, if I was talking to the artist, I'd have to tell her what an absolutely wonderful job she's doing!" He smiled. "I don't think I've ever seen a better…" He eyed the red patch uncertainly. "…apple in all my years!"

"Fwog," a quiet voice corrected. "'S a fwog."

Rick slapped his forehead. "Well, of course it is! How silly of me! Guess I'm just not as smart as you, huh?"

Dark eyes regarded him from under an even darker brow. She reached out to pat his knee, transferring some of the paint.

"S'not your fault," she said. "You're a boy. Daddy says boys are dumb."

"Daddy says, huh?" He chuckled. "Sounds like your daddy is pretty smart."

The girl nodded.

"And if you're daddy's so smart, he probably also warned you about talking to strangers." He held out his hand. "Hi there. Th' name's Rick. And who might you be?"

She gave his hand a very thorough examination before shaking it. "Isabelle."

"Isabelle, huh? A pretty name for a pretty girl." He hadn't thought of the paint until it was too late and wiped his hand off on his lab coat, making an interesting smear of red.

Isabelle wrinkled her nose at him, her little mouth curling into a frown. "Daddy says people only make empty comp'ments when they want something from you."

Rick started to frown, but caught himself. "Your daddy sounds like a real piece of work. Is he around here somewhere?" He scanned the hall, but they were still the only two people in it. Judging by the amount of paint she'd been here for a while, too.

"Portant comfence. Last chance t'make them lissen, Isabelle."

"And he lets you wander around on your own?"

If looks could kill, he would have been… well, pretty sore, anyway. Isabelle shook her head, making her pigtails flop.

"Supposed to stay in the corner an' paint, but I ran out of paper."

"Looks like you found a good replacement." He glanced down when she grabbed his finger, giving it a tug. Obeying the unspoken command, he stood, somewhat hunched to accommodate her smaller size.

She dragged him partway down the hall to a particularly vivid section of her picture. "This is outside," she informed him. "You maybe forgotted what it's like. That's the sun." She pointed at the yellow blob he'd noticed earlier and then indicated the nightmare creature. "An' that's Barky. He's a dog. He's happy cuz he can run around with Kitty."

Kitty was made of purple spikes. Rick was also introduced to trees, grass, and Horace the bird, who was bigger than the trees. He had a hard time convincing her that he knew what the outside world looked like. Probably due to something else her father had told her.

He was telling her about the time he'd fought a dragon and was painting it in as proof when he heard someone behind him clear their throat. He stood, whirling fast and almost unbalancing when Isabelle clamped herself onto his leg.

"It isn't what it looks like!" he blurted, sticking his hands behind him. And then he saw who was standing there.

"Oh! Caroline! Hi! Uh, h-hello there! I, uh…" He was sure he was blushing clear down to his toenails. This was not the suave and sophisticated image he tried to project. "We were just, uh…" He stammered to a halt. Caroline was smiling at him.

"Hello, Richard. I hadn't realized you were transferring to the art department."

"Art department! A-heh. Yeah, because… uh, masterpieces. I know how… to… appreciate." His vague handwave attempted to indicate her, but then he saw his hand was covered with green paint and tucked it behind him again.

"Are you going to introduce me to your new girlfriend?" She tilted her head, still smiling.

"My what? My new… Oh! Yes." He glanced down at the girl, who was still clamped onto him like a lamprey. "I found here here. Alone. And I thought to myself, 'Rick'- you should call me Rick, Miss Caroline- I thought to myself, 'Rick, here's a pretty little damsel in distress and you should stay right here and keep her company til her daddy comes along.'" He puffed out his chest.

"And paint on the walls while you waited?"

The air whooshed out. "Uh…"

Not waiting for a reply, Caroline crouched down. "Hello. You must be Isabelle."

Isabelle pressed her face into the back of Rick's leg.

"My name is Caroline. Your father is very worried about you. He sent me to find you." She held out her hand.

Isabelle's hold tightened enough to threaten his circulation, then she released him and took the proffered hand.

Caroline straightened. "Thank you for watching Isabelle, Richard," she said. "I'm sure her father will appreciate it, too. The babysitter canceled at the last minute and he had to bring her in."

"Oh, sure, you know me; always up for a little adventure." He grinned.

"You may want to clean up from this latest adventure before you return to your lab." She swiped a finger against his lapel and held it up. It was yellow.

"Oh, right." He tried to wipe it, only to turn it green instead. "I'll, uh, do that."

"Isabelle, do you have anything to say to Richard?"

The little girl, who'd caught the edge of her towel to drag her paints with her, looked up at him. "Thank you, Mr. Rick."

"You're very welcome, little lady." He tipped his hat at her. The one he wasn't wearing. "You try and stay out of trouble, now, you hear?"

"Yes, sir." Her grin promised the opposite.

"I'll be by the lab later for a progress report," Caroline said. "Goodbye, Richard."

"Progress report! On the project I'm progressing on! Yes. Be there or be… there! OK! Bye, now!" Grimacing, he turned and headed the other way. He'd screwed up again. Or had he? His fingers hovered over the place where she'd touched him. Maybe his charms were finally working. The thought added a bounce to his step. Yes, he decided, the situation was _definitely_ improving.


End file.
